


The Soft Parade

by Eureka234



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fear Play, Fetish Clothing, Kink Negotiation, Knifeplay, Light Dom/sub, Mass Effect Kink Meme, Medical Kink, Multi, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Rape/Non-con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eureka234/pseuds/Eureka234
Summary: Jane is invited to a get-together by a stranger on the Citadel. One shot.





	The Soft Parade

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very belated birthday present one shot for my friend Cai-ann over at Fanfiction.net (https://www.fanfiction.net/u/1158705/cai-ann). I hope you enjoy it! :-D she requested the kinks although I took some creative liberty too.
> 
> Thank you to Schattenriss for the beta and title inspiration - based off the song The Soft Parade by the Doors.
> 
> I wanted to expand on part of Jack's backstory for this. Let me know what you think.
> 
> I had a lot more details drafted for the OCs than what actually made it through

_Can you give me sanctuary_  
_I must find a place to hide_  
_A place for me to hide_

\- The Soft Parade, The Doors

The upper wards, despite being an office complex, had bars scattered after every dozen or so work spaces. It was possibly to distract workers from the fact that they were indeed in the Citadel and slaves to their desks, Jane thought. Pink lights glared from the ceiling, indistinguishable from a night club, refracting off the metal polished walls, glasses and bar. Unnerved by the bright light, Jane readjusted how she was seated. The patrons in suits tarnished any ameliorating effect of being in the presence of alcohol.

Shore leave shouldn’t be this exhausting. It really, really shouldn’t. Requesting a drink from a Turian on the other side of the bar, she pondered on what she wanted to do with the rest of her time here.

 _Return to Jack,_ she decided. The memories of Saren’s men she shot near here did not help her nerves. When the bartender clunked the glass down in front of her, she felt a sense of calm as the chilled surface cooled her fingers.

“No, that’s not _vodka_?” chortled a woman from beside her. “That’s so five centuries ago!”

Wincing from the sound, Jane brought the drink closer to her. “Actually, it’s gin.”

“I thought you had more of a wild side.”

“Really?” Shepard asked in what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Taken aback by the insistence of familiarity, Jane swivelled her chair to cast her eyes on the stranger. By the beady eyes and gills it was a female Drell, but it wasn’t like any Jane had seen. Instead of a leafy green, her scales were an ocean blue, at least on her face. Hints of green lingered at her gills, collarbone and what was exposed of her body.

“Don’t let anyone in the Lower Wards hear that tone, Shepard,” the Drell answered, crossing a leg over the other.

 _Shit_ , she thought. Hoping no one else had heard the name, she hunched over instinctively. “It’s _Jane_ – and are you looking for help?”

With any luck the wording meant that she wouldn’t be asked for it.

Whenever strangers talked to her, her immediate fear was that it to be invited on a mission. Her backlog of requests was enough to make her want to cry on a good day.

The Drell laughed so high pitched it probably would have broken thinner glass. She stroked Shepard’s fingers that were clutching the drink. “That’s how I say hello,” she told her, like interfering with someone’s personal space wasn’t a problem at all, “I’m Mrs Veblen, and I wanted to invite you to a social outing.”

“Err,” Shepard drank some gin, to pull away from her, “I’m not the type for that sorta thing, really.”

“You’re such a _jelly blob_ ,” Mrs Veblen said with a grin, like it was a playful stab, “Word within the elevators is you’re on shore leave. Isn’t that a charming coincidence? I am too. It was the perfect recipe for fun.”

“Huh.” Shepard didn’t know what to think. “What does someone like you do for fun?”

 _Or for work,_ she added in her head.

The Drell shared the dress sense of anyone in Flux. She wore a tight fitting purple body suit that exposed large sections of her mid-riff, cleavage and ribs, a long sleeved buttoned up white blouse that would have been classy if it wasn’t see through, and a white skirt that went mid-way down her thighs (thankfully this wasn’t transparent). Whatever this may have indicated about the stranger’s personality, Shepard knew to ignore it.

Mrs Veblen sipped a vibrant pink liquid through a spiral bronze coloured straw. “What I do for fun and my work are not so different. What do you think I do?”

“I don’t know. Waitressing?” Shepard guessed.

“Waitressing!” Veblen laughed. “Jane, marvellous Jane, that’s cute. I make my cash in sales. Sweat and dirt covered cash.”

 “Let me guess. You sell… parties?”

 “All varieties of party supplies,” the Drell corrected, “and a dabble of more expensive _transactions_ for private clients. But that’s not important. I don’t want your talent with guns. I only want to invite you to my event.”

“What sort of event?”

“It’s an opportunity for networking and relaxing. I will get a better turnout if I can claim your charming humanness will make an appearance.”

“You want exposure, or to boost your reputation. I get it.” Shepard noted. Then to pretend she cared - “What are your events like?”

“We play darts,” Veblen said shortly, “Delightful species from many different planets gather on my ship to mingle, toss a dart or five, drink until they _almost_ vomit.”

“I take it vomiting isn’t allowed.”

“No. If they do vomit, I send them to a room where that unsightly slime is vacuumed out of their throats. It takes so much chemical to get the stains out. Once the floor has had chemical on it, oh no, it is never the same.”

“Darts, eh?” Shepard tried to be open minded. There were probably groups centered around coin tossing for all she knew, or credit card cutting. As strange as the Drell was, she could be a source of connections. “Is there an entry fee, and can I bring a colleague with me?”

“No entry fee for you, Jane- my treat, for saving us from the Enkindlers. You’re allowed a plus one if they’re special, or a plus two, if they’re joined together biologically or by surgery only, or a one and a half if a limb has been lost,” Veblen said.

“Right. I’ll keep it in mind,” Shepard said. Now she wanted to finish her gin and leave. “What are the details?” 

* * *

 

It was a relief to enter the arcade to find Jack playing a zombie themed pinball machine. She weaved through the crowd, tuning out the endless noise and loud music playing over the speakers. Noticing how intently Jack was playing, it was a miracle the game had not been broken.

“Hey, hey,” Shepard said with a light hit on Jack’s shoulder blade, “If you go on spilling zombie guts, there won’t be anything left.”

“It’s only been twenty kills.” Jack punched a large button on the side of the machine, which simulated a scream. “Not that you care. You must be bored if you came to find me to distract you from whatever you were doing.”

With the biotic’s body covered in tattoos, her lack of clothing and the partially shaved head, she stood out of a crowd, even here– but Jane liked that kind of badassery. If the professional dress code allowed it, she would get a tattoo too. When introducing her girlfriend to the public it was much easier to leave out laboratory experiment and escaped prisoner from the picture. Actually, it was better to avoid mentioning they were in a relationship at all. Sadly, they had to be careful not to appear too friendly when surrounded by onlookers and potential journalists.

“I visit whether I’m happy or bored,” Shepard answered, approaching Jack’s side. “Take it as a compliment.”

“It’s not an insult, sure,” Jack mocked with a hateful glare. “I’d rather melt sugar and throw it so then it will burn you.”

Shepard smiled. “Maybe you’ll get your chance.” She lowered her voice. “I met an interesting bystander ten minutes ago.”

“Interesting because they’re psycho or because they’re like a fifty year old newspaper?”

“No withered grandmas.” Shepard leaned over the pinball machine to glimpse comic book style drawings decorating the wooden interior. “I got invited to play darts.”

Jack looked serious. “You have got to be joking.”  
“Is there a problem with that?”

“Depends how disgusting and sleazy this nobody sounded when they said it.”

Shepard tried to remember the expression on Veblen’s face. It seemed ordinary, as acerbic as her voice had been throughout the entire conversation. “I wouldn’t call it sleazy. Why?”

“There’s playing darts, and then there’s _playing darts_ ,” Jack explained, running her pointed nails along Jane’s neck.

Attempting to maintain a stolid expression, she queried, “Is the only difference in how it is said?” 

“The first one is exactly what you think it is,” Jack said, running a nail over Jane’s collarbone. “The second isn’t.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” Jane asked, unintentionally leaning forward closer to Jack’s face.  

Jack smirked. “The targets aren’t pieces of cheap wood put on the wall. They’re people, typically naked and ready to bleed.”

Confusion burst through Jane’s body with such intensity she wondered if her brain might combust. The thought of human dart boards was absolutely terrifying. “Why would _anyone_ do that?”

“The same reason,” Jack clasped Jane closer to her, and when their shoulders almost knocked together, she trailed her nail across to Jane’s breast, “I might do this.”

She twisted Jane’s nipple hard, the nail merely digging into the skin through undergarments, yet it was a shock none the less. Jane tried to suppress a surprised yelp of pain, and it came out as a guttural growl instead. The pressure was released and they hugged, to conceal what had just occurred.

“Okay, I get it. I don’t want darts thrown into me, but…” Shepard sighed, “How do you know about it?”

 “Dart parties happen a lot on Omega, or anywhere with a hint of a backbone.”

“Omega, huh?”

They broke apart.

“Yeah.” With a clang, Jack propelled the ball up to start another game. “People who get involved with illegal crap sometimes only feel safe at events like that.”

“You’ve been to some?”

“I went to meet people, okay? I didn’t get involved in any of that sickening body mashing.”

“If what you’re saying is true, how do I know which one it is?”

“I don’t want to think about it, but it’s best to ask who invited you.”  

“A Drell woman. Sounded like she could be involved in something nasty – but she was married, at least I think. She’s a _Mrs_ , or a _misses_ , or a _miss-ez_. I don’t know.”

“Being married doesn’t necessarily stop those who go to play darts,” Jack said, “Figures. Everyone wants a piece of Shepard’s ass. Or tits.”

Shepard cleared her throat loudly, to remind Jack to tone down the language in the Citadel.

“What?” Jack demanded, staring incredulously at Shepard.

“Perhaps she’s like the types you went to talk to. She just wants to network.” Shepard readjusted her pony tail as she leaned to Jack’s ear. “Besides, we do not talk truths in the Citadel.”

Jack smirked. 

* * *

 

Despite Jane’s best intentions, she answered a number of emails once returning to Anderson’s apartment and switching the heating on. It was a large double story place costing around a million credits at least, with a high ceiling, pristine cream walls and polished wooden floorboards. Shepard thought its size a curse since it meant the heating would take three quarters of an hour to kick in.

As soon as she heard footsteps approaching she closed the email computer window, shut the laptop screen and moved to sit on the large bed. She took extra care to look calm and innocently at Jack when the door opened. Her small amount of hair had been roughly dried, and water droplets from the shower still clung to her arms.

Her partner looked suspicious. “Were you doing work bullshit again?”

“Nah, I don’t have time for that.” Shepard put her hands in her lap and shook her head, “Would I ruin a holiday?”

  
“Yes,” Jack responded, “You’re a person who is one of the genuinely nice types, and a hard worker, not those disposable fuckwads that only pretend to be.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Shepard said with a smile. When Jack sat next to Jane on the bed, she kissed her partner on the cheek. “About what you were saying before about everyone wanting a piece of me…”

“Right.” Jack pushed Shepard sideways so she almost lost balance. “Do you remember who invited you to that nauseating excuse for a party?”

“Er, it started with a V,” Shepard said slowly, distracted by the penetrating gleam in her partner’s eyes. “No, it didn’t. Ve…Veblen?”

Jack’s eyes narrowed. “ _Veblen_.” The tone was resentful, almost angry. She reached an arm forward and dug her nails into Shepard’s thigh. Through her jeans, it felt more like a light prod.

“Is something wrong?”

“I know that name from somewhere,” Jack replied.

If the biotic recognized someone, this meant they were most certainly tied to murder, genocide or mayhem.

“Oh no.”

“You catch on fast, I’ll give you that,” Jack said. She peered at the large flat television screen, apparently concentrating. “I can’t think of it. Could be any thin skinned dumbass.”

“I can tell you more of what I learned about her,” Shepard said, “but what should we do about her invitation?”

“We’re fucking going, that’s what,” Jack said with a new found determination, “She’s already out to get us so we have to get her back twice as hard.”

“I guess it can’t hurt to go if we’re prepared.”

Jack stormed over to the dresser on the side of the room, withdrew something from a clothes hanger and tossed it to Jane. She caught it before it slipped down from her knees.

“Put this on,” Jack said.

Raising it to eye level so she could recognize the clothes, she noticed it was the dress she’d bought solely for the purpose of Katsumi’s ‘party’. Running the silk fabric between her fingers, she searched for Jack’s expression, though she was rummaging through the rest of Jane’s clothes. “I didn’t know you liked this dress.”

“Fuck no. It's ugly,” Jack agreed, “But it’s perfect for playing darts. That’s why we will rip it apart.”  
“I’m guessing that’s a double entendre.”

Jack removed a knife from one of the drawers. “My brain gets the ideas. The blade doesn't always listen.”

Not wanting to admit the idea sounded fun, Shepard’s eyes followed Jack’s knife as she moved back to the bed. “Veblen said we could bring knives, though there’s a limit on what other weapons will be permitted.”

Sitting very still, she involuntarily held her breath as Jack ran the sheath against the front of her throat and around to her ears. Suddenly, the chill of the apartment became more acute.

“Perhaps you need reminding of why this excuse of a get together is so-very-sorry and pathetic?”  

Shepard was simultaneously aware that she probably wasn’t breathing as loud as she thought, yet wished it was quieter. “Do we have time?”

“We do now.” Jack smiled. “I need time to mangle this ugly as fuck dress.”

Shepard felt her heart jump in trepidation as Jack set the blade free of its covering, scratching her neck gently with the end. If it was anyone else other than Jack handling a knife, Shepard would not let them get within ten meters of her. This was different. They had played with knives before and knew when too much was too much.

Their knees pressed together, Jane closed her eyes and luxuriated in the sensation of Jack’s cold fingers against her face, running them forcefully through her partner’s hair and tugging it.  

“Only the dress gets destroyed,” she reiterated, “Now put it on.”

Already lost in the ecstasy of anticipation, Jane’s surroundings felt more distant by the second. Still, she removed her belt first, reaching out an arm to help pull it free of her jeans. Jack took it and threw it into the wardrobe. It sounded like something fell over, noted Shepard. 

She wished she wasn't going to an outing so after this she could rest and attend to whatever primal fancy she pleased. Now she was destined to suffer - teasing and no release and psychological torture of a particularly humiliating variety.

Opening her eyes was a mistake. She unbuttoned her shirt next; though recognized the impatient look in Jack’s eye so threw the shirt over her head. Goosebumps flourished over her breasts, arms and belly.

“You missed a spot,” Jack said.

Jane’s fingers crept to the buttons on her jeans.

“No, stray,” Jack shook her head, and gently ran the blade of the knife over Jane’s right breast, so lightly it merely tingled and scratched. Then Jack used the fingers on her free hand to tug at the front of the bra strap.

Immobile, Jane nodded. “Yes, owner.”

Carefully, but quietly, she reached her arms back and unclasped the hooks. Jack pulled it off from the front. Her nipples pricked from the cold.

“You’re not wearing this,” she said, throwing it onto the bed.

That was taking it a step too far.

“But my boobs are bigger than yours. I can't just wear half a layer and get away with it like you can,” Jane protested. “My nipples will show.”

“I don't care,” Jack said, “and no one at the party will. If you arrive with a bra on someone is bound to cut it off for you. It's better this way.”

“If that’s in-style for these parties, I don't think it is for me,” Jane said, uneasy.

“I’ll kick the sleaze and balls for you, Jane,” Jack said with a protective smile.

Jane clasped the dress in one hand and stood to kiss her girlfriend tenderly on the lips. “I love you.”

When they broke apart Jack merely smiled to silently return the sentiment and held the blade against Shepard’s jeans. “Last bit.”

Jane very carefully unzipped them and removed them with a push of biotics, leaving them on the bed. All the while her heart was beating at a constant moderate rate. She wished she had worn nicer knickers today.

“You’re not wearing that either,” Jack informed, though Shepard already knew.

Hence, with the dress under one arm, Jane approached the wardrobe and rummaged through her clothes naked. She was so focused on the task of uncovering lingerie from the basket that she barely heard Jack slide the knife back in its casing. However, it became clear the knife was no longer in play when Jack yanked back on her hair. From the force and ache over Jane’s skull, she assumed it must be with both hands, pulling her away. A flash of blue light crossed the wardrobe doors, and Shepard felt lighter. In that moment she ceded control and allowed herself to be suspended by her lover and permitted her center of gravity to be distorted. A fraction of movement would make her lose balance entirely. Unable to crease her forehead or make a face, she remained silent and compliant as the biotics levitated her.

Then the discomfort lessened. Jack loosened her grip enough for Jane to re-orientate herself and resume her search. The blue glow faded. As Jane bent over again, she felt Jack’s fingernail brush against her slickened entrance… and nothing else. This only added a level of difficulty to keeping still.

“Don’t do this to me, Jack,” Jane warned. The last time this had happened and she’d pushed backwards, Jack had only teased her _more_. The eventual orgasm had been amazing, but still….

“What if I promised you will be dealt with later?”

 _Damn it,_ Jane thought. “How much later is that?”

“Whenever I feel like it,” Jack said, caressing Jane’s thighs, “before the sun comes up tomorrow.”

“Joy,” Jane said, “My favourite.”

“You up for the challenge?”

This was the adult version of the ‘one marshmallow now or two marshmallows later’ experiment. And despite the inevitable horror it would be, Jane couldn't back down from a challenge.

“I will see what I can do, owner,” she decided.

She picked out some underwear that Jack approved of and stepped into them. They fell, abandoned and pathetic around her ankles once Jack brought her fingers inside.

“Put on the dress.”

“I was-“ Jane’s breathing lost its normal pace for a moment, “-was getting to that.”

As tempting as it was to put on dress very slowly to extend whatever pleasure she could derive, Jack knew how to taunt her just the right (or wrong?) way. For a few seconds, Jane struggled to figure out what was the front and back, and put it over her head. Jack’s fingers temporarily sped up against one particularly good spot and the nails dug so deep into her other thigh the skin might have broken. Jane held back a gasp as her head started whirling.

Then it stopped. Jack removed her head from under the dress. Everything trickled away and Jane’s legs trembled at the sensation of all pleasure draining out of her, like water gushing out of cupped hands that were done with holding water. Then she couldn't feel anything at all.

She almost fell backwards onto the floor as Jack grasped a handful of her dress from the back to bring her closer. “How are you? “

 “Light headed. But the good sort.”

“That’s what I want to hear,” Jane said and Shepard found her center of gravity. With a light tear the grip became looser, and Jane suspected Jack had started cutting the dress. An exposed section of her back felt the chill of the cool bedroom air.

A piercing pain seared from her upper trapezius as Jack dug her teeth into the skin. Involuntarily she tensed. “I hate you.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

Nails were run over the bitten skin and Jane sulked like how Miranda sometimes did when deadlines were not met.

There was no more touching, only the desire to, and the inability to do so.

Jack took the knife and gently –and sometimes not so gently- cut away slices of Jane’s black dress. Jane tried not to look down at her breasts as they were covered by the remaining fabric as uselessly as a sticker.

* * *

Jane tried not to look at the floor as she showed Joker and Edi what was underneath her gigantic jacket on the bridge of the Normandy.

Joker sounded impressed. “Whoa! Nice. Hey with that getup, you nearly look like twin sisters.”

“You’re disgusting,” Jack replied.

“Agreed,” Shepard answered. She stretched out her arms. To be honest, Shepard wasn’t sure she approved of this updated version of the dress. She hated dresses because they made her feel exposed… so now she felt even more so. Many diamond shaped horizontal strips had been removed, making it look like a corset gone wrong.  What little make up she owned had been used to emphasize the scarring of burns, acid and knife wounds on her body from near-misses in missions. That, she admitted, made it look a lot cooler than it really was.

“What sort of party are you crashing anyway?” Joker asked.

“Errr…” Shepard went blank.

“One that is too hard core for your scrawny ass,” Jack said, with an imperious look at the pilot.

“I dunno, Jack,” Joker said, “We’ve seen lots of hard core.”

“We’re going to a strip club,” Shepard invented, because the event didn’t sound too different from one of those places anyway.  

“Two girls going to a gentleman’s club. There’s nothing better. Can I come?”

“You’re not invited,” Jack said, “It’s for people who don’t get on other people’s nerves.”

“Damn it,” Joker cursed, but he was still grinning, “Yeah, grab a gun and I’ll bug you with my technology over radio instead of my in-person-ality.”

“That’s what we hired you for, Joker,” Shepard said, with a hint of pride.

“Maybe not what Anderson hired me for,” Joker said, sheepishly, “but it’s what you’re hiring me for so who cares?”

Jack decided that was a good time to depart, and Shepard followed obediently. They took one gun, as Jack suspected they’d have to be sneaked in somehow. Being covered with a gigantic jacket aside, she felt like flasher knowing how much was exposed underneath so she stayed close to Jack’ s side.

A feeling of embarrassment burned inside her.

 _This is ridiculous,_ she thought, _I don’t feel at all nervous before a speech to the Council itself, but this is giving me butterflies?_

With any luck, passers-by would stare at her partner instead. Typical for Jack, she hadn’t changed her attire at all except added a jacket for good measure.

“Left,” Jane muttered, as if she spoke loud enough she’d be recognized by everyone around them.

They turned. The Lower Wards reminded Jane of an early mission from the Saren days. It felt like a lifetime ago now. They entered Chora’s Den and the sense of embarrassment peaked as Jane looked upon the Asari dancers. She was here of her own volition. Did that mean she was now an indisputable pervert?

“They’re all so clean,” Jack observed with disgust, “The Citadel doesn’t have any taste.”

Jane coughed loudly, which only made Jack dig her nails into Jane’s neck. Jane held back a groan as she tried not to contort her face into something that she was sure might have resembled an orgasm-face.

“You could at least kiss it better,” Shepard said, hopeful.

“Go to hell,” Jack responded.

Jane smiled. ‘Go to hell’ rarely meant what Jack wanted it to.

She reached the young woman described by Veblen to be allowed entry, at a table to the side. She had two old TV antennae sticking out of her red bun like some might with chopsticks, accentuated by her silver crop top and skirt. Jane thought rather sadly that the woman looked ill, the erratic lighting of the venue aside.

“Hi there,” Jane said, with a small wave, “Mrs Veblen told me to find you. I’m Jane and this is Jack. It’s Xue Jie, right?”

The woman grinned. “Hurray! New guests. It’s a big pleasure to meet you!” Jane shook her hand absently, unable to place the accent. “All you need to do is buy one drink, and that’s _all_. No more than one. And walk to the Docking Bay.”

“Only one drink,” Shepard repeated.

“What if I buy a bottle?” Jack tested.

“Shut up,” Jane hissed.

“No bottles,” Xue Jie replied, with a smile suitable for a flight attendant. “Hand out!”

Jane complied, where Xue Jie wrote a heart with a star in it in mascara on her wrist.

Jack was reluctant. “No heart for me.”

Xue Jie looked hurt. “Do you not like it?”

“No.”

“Star then,” Jane said hastily. When that was all done, Shepard whispered to Jack, “Can you buy me a Dead Reaper?”

“If I feel like it,” Jack said darkly, departing.

Jane sat down next to Xue Jie and watched the same Asari she was, stepping around a pole. “Do you like these shady places?”

“I meet all my friends here,” Xue Jie answered.

“Right.” Jane couldn’t help but conjure some horrific image of the girl being hit on by creepy dudes. “Is Mrs Veblen one of your friends?”

Xue Jie grinned widely. “I love her. She’s so funny.”

 _Platonic or what?_ Jane wanted to ask. “How long have you known each other?”

“Years,” Xue Jie answered. Her grin was so innocent it was hard not to smile back.

“I have a lot of stories I don’t tell either,” Jane admitted. “How did you get involved with all this?”

“My brother knew Veblen a long time ago,” she said, “He’s dead now.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, Jane,” Xue Jie said nonchalantly, “I believe he is happy there.”

 “I’m still sorry.”

Xue Jie looked at Shepard confused, as if trying to look politely amused by a joke that fell flat.

“I got you a Week Old Hickey,” Jack said, returning with a cocktail glass filled with part jelly, a suspiciously purple liqueur and a sliced orange.

“Gee, that’s just what I wanted,” Jane said, trying not to lay on the sarcasm too thick.

The walk to the Docking Bay was somewhat awkward. They tried not to spill their drinks and radioed back to Joker. The ship the event was hosted on a non-descript white one of modest size. The security outside the ship did a weapons check and promptly removed the bullets from the guns, replacing them with blanks.

“It’s more fun that way,” said a muscly dark skinned man with a grin.

“Not to me, it’s not,” Jack complained.

“It’s policy,” the other security person said that Shepard couldn’t figure out the gender of.

Music could already be heard from inside, a remix of a song that she had heard once over one of the Citadel speakerphones.

When they entered it was clear this remix had far more swear words and was far more appropriate for those who were drunk and unable to identify the meaning of the song.

The interior was in far better taste than Shepard had expected. Had there been any doubt that ships could double as a holiday homes before, it was now eliminated. Photographs of beaches, rivers and rock formations were visible on some of the walls, while large sheets covered the many tables that looked second hand as they were different shapes and sizes. As Mrs Veblen had said, there were a great number who were drinking over a game of cards, and another who were throwing darts at a board. Some wouldn’t have been allowed on a beach. They were all dressed as Jack had said – not appropriate for outdoors. She looked away from catching a flash of a guy’s bulge from his latex shorts.

“Anything familiar about this place?” Shepard asked.

“Not yet,” Jack said, as though the answers were deliberately hiding from her, “But we arrived a few seconds ago.”

Shepard tried not make any sound as Jack dug her nails into her back. They were sharp.  “We should find a private space.”

“No,” Jack said with a smirk, “There are dark corners over there.”

She pointed, and Jane followed where she was pointing but immediately looked away. Too much nakedness.

“I am so sorry to interrupt your fun. You’re our special guest today, right?”

“You tell me,” Shepard said, turning to see who had spoken to her. It was a muscly man with his hair spiked up slightly with gel.  

“I was attempting to be inconspicuous,” he said, as Jack trailed her nails down Shepard’s back. “It’s our galaxy’s hero, correct?”

“That’s right.” Jane noticed alarmed that it was the same guy with the latex shorts. He was shirtless except for… “Do you like nipple tassles?”

“These ones are not my favourite,” the stranger said, giving them a flick, “I have some with Avina being on fire. Hilarious. But I can’t wear them under my clothes. I always feel like the Avina are judging me.”

Shepard laughed, and didn’t think about whether she was being rude or not. Then she was sure she blushed as Jack slapped her right ass cheek.

The man reached out a hand. “I’m Stuart. What should I call you?”

“Tassle hater,” Jack replied.

“You can call her that,” Shepard said, “You can call me… err… Jane is okay.”

She realized she should have thought of this beforehand.

“Pleasure,” the man said with a large grin. He looked like his daily diet was protein shakes, and maybe salad. “I hope you don’t mind me saying so, but I work in television production-”

“My schedule is sadly full for interviews,” Shepard lied, not wanting to sound impolite.

“I work in the special effects department, relax,” Stuart said, “I wanted to know if I could get an autograph.”

“Sure. Where?”

Stuart held out an arm. “I don’t have a marker but you can engrave it with a knife if you’re comfortable with that.”

“I think I’d rather find a marker,” Shepard admitted.

“There’s some near the drinks,” another person said who was near Stuart, pointing. The ‘drinks’ table had what looked like beer or cheap sparkling wine… whatever it was, the near fluro colours and the fact only younger guests were drinking it encompassed ‘cheap’. A marker was available to label someone’s glass or to put a nametag on. What looked like a soap dispenser was next to it on a different table. Small bowls filled with wrapped sweets were also placed here and there.

“Walk with me,” Stuart instructed, and Shepard followed.

Jack went to wander the venue in the other direction. When they had evaded enough people, Stuart muttered, “How do you know the Sempstress?”

“Who?”

“Mrs Veblen.”

“I didn’t realize she went by that name.”

“How did she find you, then?”

“I think everyone ends up figuring out where I am,” Shepard answered.

“Hey, I work in the media and hearing you’re on the Citadel doesn’t narrow down your location as much as you think.”

“That’s reassuring, actually,” Shepard responded. “How do you know her then?”

Stuart pointed to what looked like some scarring parallel to his spine, which went from his shoulder blades down ten centimetres. “She made this.”

Jane observed it dispassionately. “Looks like medical stitching.”

“It is more than what it looks like,” Stuart said, “A friend invited me to one of these events, er, five years ago. I only regretted the latex shorts, but I can’t justify throwing them away until they get destroyed or worn down.”

“They’re that bad, huh?”

“They were _that_ expensive. They’re not breathable and I get enough bad chafing with shirts.”

 “Chafing is like a test in the military. You’re doing a good job.”

Now they’d reached the table, Jane grabbed a marker. “Which arm?” While she wrote on Stuart’s arm, she said, “This will probably fade by Monday.”

“That’s all I need,” Stuart said with a grin, “By the time the jealousy of my co-workers hits I suspect you will have left the Citadel.”

“That’s the _plan_.” Shepard finished writing ‘Jane’ and started on her last name.

“So where are you going next? You can trust me.”

Shepard looked at the man disbelievingly and he laughed. “I don’t actually care. Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

 “This party is a lot tamer than what I suspected.”

“It’ll get worse,” Stuart said, “or wonderful depending on your definitions.”

“What do you do at these parties, exactly?”

They had to move as some people had decided to start dancing near them, and risked hitting people nearby.

“I tend to watch most of the time. What about you? Is the woman you brought with you… err…”

“She’s my partner,” Shepard said, “Don’t ask her questions, because she will get irritated.”

  
“Do the two of you want to try anything out here?”

“I don’t want stitches,” Shepard said, “Its best you ask Jack. She makes the decisions – within reason, of course.”

“You mean she’s not without reason?” Stuart joked.

“Shut up.”

Realizing she wasn’t sure where Jack had gone, Jane spun around and searched the crowd. After scanning an array of multi coloured outfits, some more loose fitting or revealing than others, Jack was seen glaring, although at whom it was too crowded to tell. It didn’t matter. Shepard knew that look. In a matter of moments, Jack would launch herself at someone, yell or attack them.

A guest tried to speak to her, but she stepped forward and pushed them away.

Shepard didn’t bother to excuse herself. “Jack!” She jogged towards her partner, praying with every fibre of her being that Jack would get distracted. “You’re needed over here!”

Other guests turned bewildered, and in the backdrop Shepard heard one ask if she was alright, and another say not to run.

One of Jack’s merciless eyes spotted Shepard’s, but the message was ignored. As Shepard weaved closer to her, she heard Jack’s unforgiving utterance of, “Those dumbshits.”

“What?” Jane asked, though she didn’t stay confused for long.

Jack removed a pistol from her jacket and pointed it through the crowd. “I recognize them.”

No time to ask who ‘they’ were.

“ _So_?” Shepard hissed, and she reached out to Jack’s arm, “ _Put that away_.”

By the intensity of Jack’s stare, it was clear. That gun didn’t have blanks in it. Counter measures had to happen now.

Jack had already decided what she was going to do. With a powerful lunge forward Jane pushed Jack’s arms upwards as the gunfire burst, just in time. The light above them exploded and glass shattered around them like rain, grazing their bare skin. Yelps of shock and various swear words crackled with the destruction. The lights that were still functioning flickered, but Shepard was focused on only one reaction, one that was distorted by the crowd and shadow.

Jack turned livid, accusatory. “What the hell was that?!”

A yelp of “SECURITY!” whirred through the crowd.

“ME?!” Shepard asked, unable to think fast enough, “What were _you_ doing?”

The guests in part seemed too stunned to move. One held out a couple of darts in one hand and prepared to strike.

“Back off.” Jack thrust an arm forward, her burst of biotic energy sending electricity to many guests, and lunged toward the crowd. Those closest to them were pushed back half a meter or more depending on their proximity and angle to the biotics.

Paying no mind to those who had been affected, Jane ran after her. “Jack!” and she knew Jack would hate her for this but she had asked for it. Into her microphone attached to her, she muttered ‘Joker, this is Shepard. We might need to exit. Stand by.’

Using a motion like grabbing onto a rope and hauling it back, she attempted to pull Jack back in the other direction with her own biotics. The beam was largely invisible except that it distorted whatever lay on the other side and around it like steam, only glowing blue around Jack’s torso, hips and arms. Her partner slowed down as if a film played back in a quarter the speed. Those who had somehow missed Jack’s initial attack were unable to move away, possibly caught in it too.  But Jack had always been more proficient at biotics. Tearing her arms forward as if to break out of restraints the Pull was broken. The blue light whooshed back toward Shepard before all perceptible environment distortions faded. As if cutting the binding between them, Jane’s leverage on the force suddenly vanished. Now unbalanced, Jane brought her food forward to re-locate her center of gravity. In the chaos she identified whom the gun was aimed at - Mrs Veblen, and barely heard the crackle of Joker return with ‘Copy that.’

“Don’t attack Sempstress!” Xue Jie shouted with far more volume than one could assume she was capable of from looking her.

A burst of a silver _something_ splattered onto Jack like a gigantic spider web and immediately covered half of her body in ice, pinning her to the floor. “FUCK!” Jack screamed, “You think you can imprison me, you fucking pussies?”

With her free arm, Jack threw another ball of electric energy forward, but Mrs Veblen was no stranger to combat. She dashed out of the way, with enough agility and precision to be trained. “Jack! Stop!”

“Only when you’re dead!” Jack roared.

 _The party host does know Jack,_ Shepard thought quickly, using her biotics to try pull Jack back yet again.

“Fuck you, Shepard!” Jack retorted.

Jane filled with a particularly heavy guilt at the look of rage on her partner’s face, though at that moment the security guards released another pellet of ice that glued Jack’s other arm to the floor. Now, despite her struggling and burst of biotics, the ice cracked slightly but did not burst.

“We are not here to start crap with you,” said another man, who paced towards Jack.

Shepard didn’t recognize this man. He appeared to have an injury as patches of dark skin were broken by streaks of greyish purple and scarring. In fact, he was much more greyish purple than what she assumed was the original colour.

“You expect me to believe that stupid lie again?” Jack screamed.

“Calm the hell down, tat lady,” one of the security guard’s said, “Or you’ll be saying night night.”

“I… you should try lower your voice,” Shepard suggested, glad that the security seemed competent.

“You’re the one who should lower yours!” Jack snarled, “How can you say that after all we’ve been through? Take their side and you’re dead to me.”

“But they’re not attacking us!” Shepard remarked, gesturing to demonstrate that Veblen and the man had not done anything.

“Why won’t YOU listen to her?” the man demanded, looking from Jack to Shepard, crossing his arms.

“Exactly. We thought you trusted Jane, even if you want to _tear us apart_.” For a terrifying second Mrs Veblen made an identical Jack impression, facial expression, mannerisms and all.

Jack glared, fuming, to Veblen, the man and the security. “Like you’d listen if I told you.”

“Yes, yes, so don’t even try!” Mrs Veblen roared.

The security guards began to encourage the crowd of onlookers to continue with their business. Shepard heard Joker through her radio – ‘We’ve found your ship but we’ll be picked up by their sensors if we get any closer. You still need the rescue or not?’

Shepard clicked a distress signal on her radio to let Joker know she was occupied.  

Jack looked determined and muttered at Shepard. “That’s it? You don’t care that I’m on the floor covered in ice.”

Shepard sighed. “It’s not that I don’t care-“

“Really? Because that’s what it looks like.”

“When you try attack, we get security. Too bad you didn’t get the message when you were in solitary confinement,” the man said, spitefully.

“YOU ASKED FOR IT.” Jack growled and with a bang shards of the ice went flying and beams of blue light burst through it. Security quickly replaced the ice. Then one aimed a gun at Jack’s head.

“Move and you’re out,” the other security guard said.

“Shit.” Jack fell limp, but still appeared angry, like a tiger merely planning its next pounce.

Shepard stepped forward. “Jack, can you at least say you won’t fight? I don’t want that.”

Jack looked murderous. “Go fuck yourself, Shepard, like the pussy kissing bitch you are.”

Insults were not new from Jack, although over the time they’d known each other, Shepard had stopped Jack from using them against her. The fact she’d come up with something particularly nasty was more hurtful than she wanted to admit. So she lashed back in anger. “What’s got you wound up?”

“You mean you can’t figure out who these two dirtbags are?!” Jack demanded.

Jane hesitated. “Should I?”

“I told you about them, so yes you should!”

Everyone else seemed to be listening carefully, while Jane’s confusion increased. She looked at Veblen and her accomplice, hoping something might click together, but it didn’t. “When?”

“On the Normandy, you fuck! Where else did I tell you anything?”

“Was this a while ago? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember,” Shepard said, “So much has happened.”

“Jesus, those were basically the first names I dropped. And you ignored it!” Jack sounded near heartbroken now. “You act like you care but you don’t. You’re like everybody else! You’ll replace me in a heartbeat.”

Jane was unable to say anything more. She was so gobsmacked, so overcome with guilt no thoughts entered her mind.

“Knock her out,” Veblen ordered.

“They’ll turn on you like they did to me!” Jack threatened.

“Wait-“ Shepard raised  a hand, “she can be reasoned with if-”

Veblen’s accomplice laughed. “Good one. Sleep time, darling!”

Before Shepard could do anything, a gun blast went off, likely that of a tazer gun, as Jack fell limp. The high tempo techno music continued to play as if nothing had happened, yet Jane felt so stunned the room might as well have been dead silent. “Was that necessary?”

“We don’t have time for guilt trippers here,” Veblen said, “It gives bad vibes and bad feedback forms.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” Shepard said immediately, “so could you put your weapons down?”

They did and the security guards departed.

“We have no intention of starting anything,” the man said, “only ending it.” He jumped over Jack like she was only a bench and reached out a hand. “People know me as Lucien here.”

“What do they know you as everywhere else?” Shepard inquired, shaking the hand back.

“Tell you once we’re out of the crowd,” Lucien said, “For now, let’s move Miss Zero.”

One of the security guards lifted the ice seal from the floor and Jane used biotics to move Jack. Refusing the help of others, they head to a spare room that had a laminated paper sign on the door telling guests in bubble writing ‘You do not enter here. Step back’. By the star and heart on the end, Jane suspected Xie Jue had written it. Security guards were encouraging guests that the situation was all under control and there was nothing to worry about.

On the contrary, Jane felt that there were increasing numbers of things to worry about.

They entered a room which blocked out almost all noise, and Jack was lowered to the floor to thaw out.

“She’s far more content here,” Veblen said like one might to a newborn baby.

“Jack said she knew you somewhere,” Shepard began, a vague mistrust of the two strangers rising. Jack had a point. They could be putting on a nice front only to turn terrible later. “If you have an agenda with me, I’d like for us to put it to rest here.”

“Do you truly not remember her mentioning us?” Lucien asked.

Shepard peered from Veblen’s face to Lucien’s. They both looked serious. “No.”

“She knew us as different people in those days,” Veblen said, “I thought she’d mention us enough times to get so exhausted by it.”

Jane hesitated. “I’m sorry to say this, but I don’t think she thinks of you as high in importance.”

Veblen and Lucien passed grave looks to each other, sat down on a bed and offered Shepard a seat next to them. She took it, reluctantly.

“Jack knew me as Manara,” Veblen said, “This is my husband, Tabbie Veblen, though Jack knew us when we were in our first honeymoon phase.”

“When you were dating?”

“Yeah. We were… close friends.”

“Everyone goes by pseudonyms here,” Shepard remarked, “Is there some reason you didn’t tell me you knew Jack when you invited me?”

“We knew Jack probably wouldn’t come here by herself,” Lucien said, “and if she was going to recognize the name early and decide ‘No’, we thought it was better it happened then. We thought she’d know who we were and talk it through with you before she got here.”

“If she hadn’t already,” Veblen agreed.

Shepard didn’t agree with their methods. They seemed to place too much faith in intuition. “And what we have now was a better outcome?”

“I honestly thought if she would have made it here, she would be reasonable enough not to explode,” Veblen said.

“I don’t know the Jack you knew,” Jane admitted, “but this Jack isn’t so great at containing herself. She also didn’t tell me much about you. At least I think so, since I don’t remember it. Could you help?”

“Gladly,” Veblen said, “We met Jack on a small planet of the Skyllian Verge shortly after she escaped the facility, but she didn’t talk about it for a long time. We wanted to join a larger pirate group to get credits – they’re not around anymore – but they don’t let you in unless you know what you’re doing so Jack, Tabbie and I decided to start our own group.”

“This does sound familiar,” Shepard said, “Jack told me she joined different criminal groups before being caught and kept in Purgatory.”

Lucien smiled ruefully. “We’re not innocent.”

  
“Jack is not wrong about that,” Veblen said.

Suddenly, Shepard recalled Jack saying something about an early criminal intervention where her friends had taken their share of the funds. “Was it to do with credits?”

Lucien crossed his arms. “What credits?”

“I don’t know if it was you two, but,” and Shepard repeated the detail she remembered.

“Jack agreed to that,” Veblen said, looking indignant.

“Damn right. We needed the cash urgently,” Lucien said.

“Shit. This can’t be good.” Shepard sighed. “What were you two going to say then?”

“We wanted to apologize to Jack for not…” Veblen looked distressed. “Exactly, it’s more-“

“When we knew Jack, she…” Lucien sighed, “We took advantage of her. We both did.”

“But we didn’t mean to!” Veblen hurried.

“It… was a mistake out of ignorance-”

“- a _big_ mistake out of a _lot_ of ignorance,” Veblen added.

“I get it. Calm down,” Shepard said, “What exactly did you do?”

“We nagged her into it – think about how dumb school children try to convince their buddies to gamble,” Lucien said.

“ _It’ll be fun_ ,” Veblen made an imitation of a school girl with a hateful look on her face. “ _Don’t bail on us, Jack_.”

“With what, though?” Jane inquired, “Sorry, I’m still not following.”

Lucien and Veblen looked at each other, looking guilty.

“Taking her to bed, of course,” Veblen said.

“Oh. Like… at the same time?”

They nodded, solemnly.

“We really thought nagging was how it was done,” Lucien said, sheepishly, “Whatever we thought was right was so terribly wrong… There’s no excuse, even if us street vermin didn’t know any better at the time.”

“Now we know differently,” Veblen said, “Our eternal gratitude is to one of The Omega’s prior human servants-”

“Wait, by The Omega, do you mean Aria?” Shepard asked.

“Duh.”

“B-but- she has _man-servants_?”

Lucien chuckled in her direction, a laugh that lasted a good ten seconds. She didn’t think she had been laughed at so obviously before. He didn’t speak until the last of the funny-factor had been extracted. “I’m sorry, Shepard, but you needed to ask that?”

“Lucien, be kinder,” Veblen scolded him.

“My apologies, great saviour,” Lucien said, with a salute to Jane, “The Omega chooses her servants extremely carefully. She calls them henchmen, to be precise. For some reason she is most comfortable with man-servant relationships than… _other_ ones.”

Shepard wasn’t sure on what the difference was, so simply listened.

“Stop getting side tracked, Lucien,” Veblen said, “Jane didn’t come here for a lesson.”

“Sorry, again. I’m on autopilot. Too used to giving this spiel to newbies,” Lucien said briskly, “To summarize, following protocol is like crack to us. This community taught us the many nuances of consent and how important it is to get right, how easy it is to get it wrong despite doing everything right, and so we wanted to teach others the same. There are two unspoken divisions – the ones who follow the rules, like us, and the ones who change the rules for the sake of themselves- like Aria. For us, this community is perfect for following rules and keeping others in line.”

“Xue’s brother was one of Aria’s previous human servants,” Veblen said, “We have him to thank for teaching us.”

“Very unfortunately, he is no longer with us,” Lucien said. 

“You’re all connected together somehow,” Shepard acknowledged with a nod, “you learned about… err…”

 _How not to sexually abuse people,_ sounded too harsh, as accurate as it may be.

 “Through his thoughtful words we realized how we had wronged Jack, and needed to rectify it,” Veblen explained, “Through a smaller mercenary group we heard about Purgatory and wanted to visit her there, but we were told we couldn’t unless we bought her. We retreated and months passed.”

“A colleague of Warden Kuril told us that she had joined Cerberus with you, and we thought maybe she’d…. become more open minded,” Lucien said, “so we waited for a good opportunity.”

 “I can see why you did that,” Shepard said, “I don’t know if she will forgive you, and not when you knocked her out.”

“Yes,” Veblen nodded, looking empty eyed, “but no matter what, we wanted to try.”

“We owe her that,” Lucien said, “what she does with it is her choice.”

“Jack’s not that kind of person,” Shepard said, “She’s only started to forgive me for things because I haven’t let her down too bad, and I tend to apologize quickly if I do something wrong. But I won’t stop you for wanting to try. That’s noble of you.”

“It doesn’t matter what she says,” Veblen says, “It’s been so long we just want to express it.”

“If that’s the case, good luck,” Shepard said. They looked to Jack on the ground, sadly. “I can try explain it to her first, if you like. How long does it take for cryo to thaw?”

It turned out it would take a few hours which left Shepard, Veblen and Lucien to amuse themselves with the party in the meanwhile. Shepard excused herself to advise Joker that no intervention was necessary, and she felt a weight being lifted off her shoulders. She had to admit that she wanted Jack’s company more than anyone else she was meeting here, but nothing could be done about it. She didn’t find any appeal in watching people be used as dart targets. In fact, it made her feel ill. She followed Stuart around, helped Veblen and Lucien keep the area clean, offer dizzy looking guests sweets and survey the crowd for anything dangerously out of the ordinary.

She overheard snippets of conversation from time to time.

"What is this?"

" _’People are strange’_ "

"What? Which remix?"

"No remix. Just the song."

"WHAT?"

The guy who was selecting the music had a pair of large headphones on and made Jack think of what Joker might be like if he had gotten into the partying scene and not piloting. “The Doors is the real gold and you’re missing out, dude.”

“What are they talking about?” Jane asked Stuart, who was also ‘floating’ about the event.

“Earth trash,” Stuart said.

“Garbage?”

“It’s a genre - music from over a thousand years ago. There are a lot of fans of the stuff here.”

“Do you like it?”

“Eh, I have a friend who knows a friend. Some of it’s okay.”

Jane had to admit the song that was playing at the moment, as catchy as it was, sounded quite _empty_ compared to the strong beats that made up most of the music she knew of.

“We’ll play more for you, Jane,” Veblen assured her. “Have you had a Mars bar tonight?”

“Is that a protein bar?”

“Nah, chocolate.” Stuart grabbed a few chocolates, “This is actually good. Hey, has anyone seen a Milky Way bar around?”

Shepard shook her head.

“Damn. I can’t find them anywhere. One of my brother’s collected Earth Trash. He swears there’s still some hiding somewhere.”

“You mean made illegally?” Jane checked.

“Eh, the chocolate companies don’t like Earth Trash making a resurge. It deters their intergalactic market. No one wants to admit Earth makes decent chocolate.”

“I’ll admit it,” Lucien said, “Nebula bars don’t do it for me. I’m an Earth Trash convert with Mars bars and proud of it.” 

This went on for a while, and Veblen asked the man in charge of music to play some more Earth Trash. Shepard had to admit she liked three out of five songs, though she had never had much chance to listen to many other genres of music besides whatever Joker played over the speakers sometimes. Conversations of strength training regimes and biotics, led the conversation to mercenary groups. The married couple were incredibly knowledgeable on their sector of crime, even if they were reluctant to disclose the group they were part of.

“You guys would be useful to have around,” Jane remarked.

Veblen seemed to understand immediately what she meant. She put a hand on Shepard’s shoulder. “Dear, dear, jelly thing. That’s so kind of you. We would love to, but we don’t want that kind of attention drawn to ourselves.”

“Don’t think Jack would be happy, either,” Lucien said.

“Yeah,” Jane agreed, feeling a bit disappointed.

“The cryo will take a few hours to thaw, so could we talk to her outside of the ship?” Veblen requested, “It is a precaution. We don’t want others feeling unsafe when she wakes up and is still angry.”

“I don’t want to have to do that,” Jane replied, “but I understand why you’re asking. How about I forward you credits to repair the part of the ship she broke?”

With some further discussion, Jane agreed to the new (though sad) plan and brought used, unlabeled drink glasses to a sink. Eventually she was feeling nauseous at the metallic scent of blood in the air so disappeared to the room Jack was in. She sat there for a while, doing nothing at all but feel sad for her partner, wondering at how many other people had wronged her who wouldn’t try to make up for their mistakes. 

* * *

 Most of the guests left the ship for clubbing once it stopped temporarily at another planet. Once the cryo thawed, Lucien dried Jack with a towel and wrapped her up with a blanket. Jack’s woke up once the ship docked back on the Citadel. With biotics, Shepard brought Jack to the closest seat she could find inside and offered her two chocolate bars. Jack was jumpy and disorientated when she woke up but sugar helped this. Thankfully at this time of night the place was empty and nearly all closed, except for Chora's Den dwellers.

As calmly and empathetically Shepard explained and rationalized with Jack, the best that could be managed was, “I’ll put up with them, but I won’t accept their fake apology.”

Shepard sighed and repeated for the umpteenth time. “I don’t know what it is like to be in this sort of situation myself, so I will support whatever you want to do.”

“Get them in here,” Jack said, “I want to set their heads straight.”

Cringing internally, Shepard did as she was told and found the two. They entered with a stony expressions on their faces, though Shepard suspected they were nervous and hiding it well.

“Jack,” Veblen said, “Nice to see you after so long.”

“Quit that and get to the point,” Jack spat.

Lucien sighed, “Sure. We wanted to apologize properly for taking advantage of and taking your money.”

“That’s the best you can do?” Jack tested, “You don’t sound sorry.”

“We are,” Veblen insisted. Obviously she was trying to stay calm but was upset. “You don’t have to forgive us but we wanted to apologize. We didn’t realize what we were doing because we were stupid. I… I’ve had terrible things like that happen to me too, and I didn’t realize that was wrong either at the time because I was manipulated to not see it.”

“If you don’t give a shit about the truth, ignore us,” Lucien said, “If you don’t think we’re trustworthy still, ignore us too. But we wanted to make it up to you if we could.” He rummaged for something in his jacket and pulled it out. “These are the credits we owed you.”

“We never got a chance to repay you,” Veblen said.

Jack stared at them and held out a hand. “What?”

“There was a mix up,” Lucien said, “Veblen and I needed the money for an emergency health issue. I remember explaining it to you, but perhaps we were fucked on tablets at the time. I don’t recall anymore.”

Jack hesitated. “What health issue? You guys were in better health than me.”

“I got meningococcemia disease,” Veblen said, “I’ve always been more susceptible to illness because of my genes, but I guess we’d been around too many gross jellies without proper nourishment.”

“Yeah, remember Jack? All that fast food and snooped leftovers,” Lucien said, with a slight grin on his face.

Jack’s minute smile didn’t last. “Even if you told me, it doesn’t stop the fact I felt cheated. You just took the money from that job and pissed off.”

“We’re so sorry about that too,” Veblen said, “I think we were too focused on other problems to think or say the right thing.”

“That’s the unhappy reality of it,” Lucien said.

“And what’s to say that won’t happen again?” Jack admonished.

Veblen and Lucien looked at each other.

“It depends if you would like to be our friends again,” Veblen said, “and if so, what type of friends you would like us to be.”

 “Married life and work take a lot of our time,” Lucien said, “but we were hoping that maybe you’d like to get fast food like old times- though maybe slightly more high end fast food.”

“There’s these parties as well,” Veblen said, “and you could always bring Jane with you.”

“I don’t trust you. I wouldn’t trust you if you handed me two million credits,” Jack said, “but I will think about it. No promises, no bullshit.”

“We appreciate it,” Lucien said, “Thank you.”

 _They must know Jack well enough to know this is the best they’re gonna get,_ Jane thought.

“Is there anything you want to ask us before we go back out?” Veblen said.

“Yeah,” Jack said, “What happened to your faces?”

Lucien and Veblen took one look at each other and giggle snorted.

“Short or long answer?” Veblen asked.

“The one that isn’t a lie,” Jack said.

To Shepard’s surprise, it turned out their discolouration was not from injuries, as she first believed. In Lucien’s case, it was because of overexposure and poisoning to iridium-4, which was used in a lot of construction these days. Veblen’s blue face was self-inflicted. “Asari are the most beautiful species we know of.”

“You made yourself blue to look like an Asari?” Jack spluttered.

“To be beautiful,” Veblen replied, stoutly, “You don’t understand what it is like to be a Drell. We’re considered ugly no matter what, just because we’re green and look like creatures you have on Earth. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been called Frog Legs. Jellies cook and eat those?!”

“I told her she didn’t need it,” Lucien mentioned, absently, “Sadly there’s still a lot of discrimination against Drell and mercenary work, so that doesn’t help.”

“I don’t use them anymore. They gave me bruising,” Veblen said, roughly, pointing to some burst blood vessels at the back of her neck.

Talk didn’t last for much longer before the couple departed the lower floor of the Citadel.

“Well done,” Shepard praised Jack.

“What? For being an asshole?”

“No. For keeping calm and thinking more carefully about what you were going to say,” Shepard said.

“Thanks,” Jack said, albeit bitterly.

“Let's go back to the Normandy,” Shepard said, “I have to say all this drama has killed whatever fun we were going to have.”

“Sorry,” Jack admitted, “I was just being careful.”

“I know,” Shepard said, “though I don’t think the screaming was necessary.”

Jack looked like she was going to lash out, but didn’t. “It brought up a lot of garbage I thought I’d left behind. It made me sick.”

“I know.” Shepard gave Jack a hug and planted a kiss on her mouth. “Just try to keep cool next time.”

“I’m always cool, Jane,” Jack said smugly, then, “But I know what you’re saying. Next time, I’ll bitch about _wanting_ to kill someone before I pull the trigger if the circumstances aren’t urgent.”

“Good idea,” Shepard said. “Now what should we do?”

“There’s still a number of hours until morning,” Jack said, “and I can start from the beginning with torturing you.”

“You can try, but I can’t guarantee anything,” Shepard said.

“That’s my line, bitch,” Jack said with a smirk.

Their game continued once they returned to the Normandy in Jane’s quarters. Jack pushed Shepard down on the bed and kissing her, brought her palms down to Shepard’s hips.

“What would the Veblens have thought if we had done this on their bed?” Shepard wondered, with a cheeky smile.

Jack laughed. “You haven’t learned anything tonight.” She reached down and pulled out her knife, running the covering down Shepard’s dress. “I should cut the rest of this away.”

Shepard didn’t want to know if that was a joke or not. “No thanks.”

“Did you miss me?” Jack asked, dragging her nails down Shepard’s front.

“You know I did.”

“Sorry, didn’t hear you over how little you give a shit.”

She dug her teeth into Shepard’s neck, the piercing pain spreading outwards like an electric shock. At the same time Jack threaded her other fingers underneath the cut up dress and inside her.

The way Shepard shrieked matched those who had been used as target boards. She reached out to pull Jack closer but her partner coaxed her grip away and sat up, looking bemused.

“We’re done for now.”

“What?” Jane exclaimed, flummoxed.

“I did say you had to wait.”


End file.
